Mexico: To Teach or Not To Teach

"Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world." Indeed when I look upon the world and the numerous issues facing humanity and the future of this planet (the threat of nuclear war, armed conflict/occupations, genocide, corruption in politics, economic disparity, poverty, racism, materialism, overpopulation, pollution, the lack of potable water, deforestation, the warming of the oceans, the extinction of species, the lack of renewable energy, the lack of sustainable food, peak oil, and 100's of other problems that occupy my mind every day) it is easy to lose hope and give in to pessimism but then I am reminded of words like Nelson Mandela's above and I know there is hope. Being the change you want to see in the world is a difference of one, but teaching others how to be the change in the world; that's how you start a movement, that is how you truly change the world. Over the course of the last four years every job I have held has more or less been that of an educator. From being a summer camp counselor for kids in the northwoods of WI, to being a program counselor for youth with disabilities in Minneapolis, to being an outdoor educator for inner city kids around the country, to being a wilderness therapy field guide for troubled youth out in Utah, my work has been about mentoring and fostering positive change in the youth around me. As a "teacher" my classroom was the fire circle, the neighborhood park, a voyageur canoe, or a mountain top. I had never been a formal teacher in a classroom setting, but as I looked toward the future and the idea of finding a "career" in life I figured it couldn't hurt to at least give the traditional route a try. Becoming a teacher in the States is a lengthy process; degrees, certifications, exams, licenses - years and many thousands of dollars of investment. Becoming a certified teacher of English in any foreign country is a fairly simple one; four weeks time and a cost the equivalent of three weeks work in the States. Hence my journey to Chiapa de Corzo Mexico to receive my TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language certification).  
         My TEFL course took place at Dunham Institute, a small private "mom and pop" after school English program that offers beginner, intermediate, and advanced classes to kindergartners all the way up to adults in their fifties. My course consisted of grammar classes every morning followed with observation and teaching in the classes in the evening. The most striking thing about the morning classes is how little we know about the English language as native speakers. If you were to ask the average person what the past perfect progressive tense was they would probably stare at you blankly and yet every native English speaker is able to use this tense effortlessly. Really these classes were all about identifying and explaining why we speak the way we do. We did mock lessons with our fellow teachers in training, introducing new grammar points to them as if they were foreign learners. I found it comical that many times we as native speakers and teachers in training couldn't explain why we say certain things, why certain words are spelled the way they are, or why certain grammar points work the way they do. I now understand why many foreigners who know a number of languages say that English was the hardest to learn.

         While the morning classes of just us eight students were a bit dry and slow, attending the actual English classes in the afternoon was always entertaining. There were twelve classes being offered by four different teachers when I took my TEFL in January, with each class lasting more or less an hour depending on their level. As I said before each class was extremely different in both age and in their level of English. The first day we simply observed three of these classes, by the second day of my course we were already leading exercises for classes, and by the end of the week we were teaching a full 45 minute lesson. One of the biggest questions I got when I told friends and family I was going to be teaching English in Mexico was how was I going to teach English in Mexico when I barely knew Spanish. Actually, no matter where you teach English in the world you are not expected to speak the native language and actually you are more or less required to not use this language in class. The reason why students can become nearly fluent in English in just a few months or years of classes is because they are immersed in English from day one (and not taught in their native language as we in the States often are in our high school and college courses). So, even when I was teaching my class of eight beginner six and seven year old students I was speaking English the entire class and never once uttered a word of Spanish. 

     

 Naturally gesturing, props, pictures, and games that put grammar and vocabulary into context are essential to the learning process when teaching a foreign language. It's easy to just print off worksheets and have students regurgitate words but we found that memorable activities and scenarios where students might actually use the language in the real world were far more effective. For example, when I had to teach the concept of "Let's" to these same beginner students I dressed up like we were going on a safari with my cowboy hat and hiking pack and then drew a map of different locations that were in the classroom. "Let's go to the cave," and I led my train of eight students under a series of desks to a notecard marked "cave." I then partnered them off, gave one student in each group a hat and a map and had them use "Let's" to express a desire to go to different locations on the map. "Let's go to the river, let's go to the hotel," etc. They were adorable and I was so proud when they understood the concept by the end of class. When I was moved to the adult conversation class I had to teach the past passive voice to some ten teenagers and adults. I started the class off by introducing the concept of passive voice and then proceeded to don my sunglasses, smack some chewing gum, be a jerk, and pretend to be a police chief who was reviewing how to write police reports with his Crime Scene Investigation unit . I took simple past active voice sentences and had them turn them into passive sentences; "A witness heard a scream at 10:00 --> A scream was heard by a witness at 10:00" etc. After I made sure they were getting the concept through examples I promptly received a phone call that a murder had taken place at Dunham Institute and that the CSI unit needed to respond immediately. Before class I had set up a crime scene in another classroom full of evidence in the form of a knife, food, turned over desks, "broken glass," "blood," books, and even a body (Preston, another teacher, gladly volunteered to comically lie on the floor as if he were dead). I put the students into CSI teams and had them investigate the crime scene and write police reports which they then had to present to me at the end of class. My classes were full of such exercises. Fun games and activities meant to deliver difficult concepts in a simple contextual manner. I think that that is more or less the essence of teaching, getting students to enjoy themselves so much that they don't even realize they are learning. 
         

Accompanying me for the 4+ weeks of my certification were seven other TEFL students as well as the four current teachers from the Fall semester and there was also the director of Dunham. Preston is by far the most memorable individual from my experience of Mexico thus far. A native of Washington who loves to bike, meditate, and sing falsetto; Preston has zero social fear. Although he doesn't speak much Spanish he has no problem making friends with strangers and even has even become good friends with a local Mexican girl simply because he had no reservations in asking her out on a date more or less through gesturing ha! I love Preston because he compliments my temperament so well. I'd say I'm just as adventurous as Preston when it comes to things like swimming in crocodile infested rivers or getting up at 7am to workout but we differ in that I am definitely conscious of what those around me think; constantly analyzing the faces, body language, and tone of the people around me to deduce their feelings, and giving weight to the social norms and values of Mexican culture to more or less fit in. Preston has a haircut akin to a Jedi knight, rocks a fanny pack, usually has flowers in his hair, and has no problem dancing, singing, or praising God in public; he does what he wants when he wants without reservation of what other people think. The man is quite simply a character and every time we hang out we either end up doing something ridiculous or having deep conversations about family, love, and life. My favorite moment with this guy had to be the day we decided to float down the Rio Grijalva lazy river style. We were so stoked to float down to the beach in front of Preston's house but upon entering the water we realized the north wind was so strong that the current was more or less canceled out. So much for a free ride. We began swimming out towards the middle of the river when a random guy appeared on the near shore and began shouting and excitedly waving his arms. Preston and I stopped swimming and attempted to understand what this man was yelling in Spanish. Preston: "Did he just say crocodile?" Me: "I think so, but I can't tell" Preston: "Senor, crocodiles here?" Man: "Incoherent Spanish + Hay un cocodrilo aqui" Steven: "Uh, I think he said there's a crocodile that lives here" Preston: "Cocodrilo aqui?" Man: "Incoherent Spanish" Preston: "I think he said there's one angry crocodile that lives here" Steven: "Well, are we feeling lucky?" Preston: "Heck no I'm getting out" We swam to shore, shook hands with the man who may have saved our lives from a giant angry crocodile and made our way to the beach where there were many more people. Since then, locals have confirmed that there are many crocodiles in the river and most of them live in the canyon further up stream; however, they still travel in this part of the river though they tend to stay away from the beach and large crowds of people.

         Juliette is a French Canadian from Montreal who just finished up a trip to Spain. As an 18 year old she's already had a ton of experience traveling and receiving her TEFL is just another way to maintain her lifestyle. She's the first French Canadian I've ever met in my life and I enjoyed learning about the differences between the French and French Canadians (there's a lot of animosity there that I never knew existed). Anyway, Juliette was always light hearted, and her accent brought a smile to my face everyday as she would greet me in the morning saying "goud moorning Steban." My favorite memory of Juliette was the day she, Preston, and I spent at the beach on the river. We met some local kids, probably around 6 and 8, who we played frisbee and tag with for a good hour. After the games we went back to shore and then Juliette proceeded to give them henna tattoos of their names on their arms. The little guys were so excited about the experience, they ran and showed their parents and of course they were cool with it, everyone seems to be relaxed in Mexico! A few days later the three of us returned to the beach again and this time we met two Italian guys who were doing a several month tour of Latin America and happened to be in Chiapa for the Fiesta. Shortly after, we met a Mexican couple from Guadalajara who were traveling with the carnival that was in town for the Fiesta and the seven of us hit it off and began talking to each other, with each conversation being more or less in a different language... English, Spanish, French, and Italian all flowing together. It was another beautiful day of cultural exchange on the Rio Grijalva. 

          Brian is a former Bank of America Customer Support Representative from Portland Oregon who came to Mexico looking for a career change; obviously, ha! Brian makes me look bad on a daily basis with his well manicured beard and mustache while I tend to look like a dirty Jesus. Brian always seemed to be the most level headed in our group and I feel like we share much the same temperament; the quiet observer that knows how to have a good time. Brian lives with my "cousins" just down the street so technically in Chiapa de Corzo we're family. There's been a sort of covert "Who's the Better International Son" competition going on between us with my mom and aunt always discussing what we're up to and how far along our Spanish is. Needless to say, Brian and I have already had a number of family experiences, from a day trip to the coast with our families, to the wedding, to my sister's birthday party at my house. My favorite memory with Brian had to be the utter confusion that ensued when the Mexican birthday song began to be sung by all the family members present for my sister... They all looked at us like we were crazy for not singing along and gestured for us to join in; however, the Mexican birthday song in no way resembles our simple "Happy Birthday" with repeating lines and only lasting about 30 seconds. No this song has zero chorus or repeated lines and about 10 verses that go on for a solid five minutes. Everyone seemed to be surprised that we didn't know it, but heck even if it were in English there was no way we could have learned such a complicated song that quickly. Afterwards, we sang "Happy Birthday" to the birthday girl which sounded pitiful after following up their eloquent song. 
     Corrinne is an aspiring teacher from Ohio who has been traveling around Mexico with her boyfriend, another French Canadian (the first two French Canadians in my life and I'm in the middle of nowhere Mexico!?), for the last couple months. Corrinne seemed to have similar intentions for her TEFL as me; testing the waters of the teaching world and deciding if it was something she wanted to pursue further in life. For about the first two weeks I didn't really talk to Corrinne that much, to me she seemed pretty professional and reserved, especially when compared to Preston and myself who were constantly giggling and cracking jokes in class. My favorite memory of Corrinne comes from the first time I really hung out with her outside of school. It was a Friday night after our second week of teaching and we were all exhausted and proud of ourselves for having now taught some 10 hours of classes. We decided to buy some beers and whiskey and rendezvous at Brian's house. We ended up playing truth or dare Jenga (which I never even knew existed) and drinking a bit. At one point Brian said something funny and Corrinne uttered out one of those snorting laughs. The kind where you can tell the person is trying to hold it back but can't! Her laugh made all of us laugh even more and she proceeded to snort even more as all control was lost. We enjoyed playing games the rest of the night, and getting Corrinne to ridiculously laugh on occassion. Cheers to those folks with oddly unique laughs.
          Laura is a seasoned traveler of Mexico that originally hails from South Carolina. She's spent the last eight months more or less in Mexico traveling with her Mexican boyfriend. Her Spanish was the best among the students and she was our go to translator a number of times when we were hanging out in the city. Laura was another one of those quiet students that I didn't really get to know until we decided to meet up at a hilltop park that overlooked the whole of Chiapa, the Rio Grijalva, and Tuxtla. Naturally we all brought some beers with us (this was still during the Festival season, where open container was legal and literally everyone was drinking in the streets). My favorite memory with Laura was at this location where we started playing a charades game with Brian's smartphone where you held up the phone to your forehead and everyone else had to act out or describe the word until the person with the phone guessed it correctly. We played this game and talked for a couple of hours at which point a group of cops came to the park and started hanging out right next to us which felt a little awkward. We began discussing in English why all these cops decided to start hanging out here when there was plenty of other places they could've gone. We figured drinking alone with cops, as foreigners, wasn't a good idea and decided to pack up and leave at which point Laura said she wasn't going to let them ruin our night. By this point Laura was a little tipsy and we all gave her a "Laurrrrrra don't, are you crazy!?" Laura staggered over to the cops and actually touched one of them and began to spout off some Spanish asking why they were there in the park. The rest of us were aghast. Doing something like this in the States would get you thrown in jail for the night or probably beaten, or these days shot, for "assaulting" an officer. But apparently the officers were really nice and didn't care that we were drinking and apologized for scaring us off. We still ended up leaving though! 
       Luke is a fellow midwesterner from Michigan who came to Mexico to shake up his life. He had recently gotten out of a relationship, was working a job he didn't seem to enjoy that much, and was living in a small town without much diversity or culture. Luke's first night in town we talked about our future plans over a beer at a restaurant in Chiapa. He seemed set on returning back home even though he didn't want to, the TEFL and this month long experience in Mexico was merely a brief escape and a dream for action in the future. My favorite memory of Luke was meeting up with him in San Cristobal to celebrate our graduation from Dunham. He showed up to the restaurant with a lady on his arm, who I later found out was his new Mexican girlfriend, and he told me he had decided he was going to stay in San Cristobal and become an English teacher. Luke's story reminds me of so many people I know back in the States. Folks who are slowly dying behind desks and are very open about the fact that they don't enjoy what they are doing with their lives but seemingly do nothing to change their situation. People who have dreams and aspirations for something more but who think they are stuck when really the only thing holding them back is the fear to take a chance, to leave their comfort zone. I'm proud of the guy. He's one of the few who is turning his back on the life he despised to pursue something more meaningful, more memorable. I can't wait to hear more about his story and what happens next for him. 
      Ian is a former bartender originally from Philly who spent the last year in Puebla experiencing Mexican culture and serving drinks. Like Laura he too speaks a lot of Spanish and is very well versed in all things Mexican. Ian came to Chiapa because he was seeking a career change and a fresh start. He was tired of tending bar and the drinking culture that accompanied it. A TEFL would allow him to travel Mexico and the world without having to rely on bartending. Whereas Preston is constantly smiling and full of innocence and energy Ian is the exact opposite; a hardened realist who has experienced a thing or two in life and who has no problem telling you exactly how he feels and why. He was the yin to Preston's yang and watching the two interact was extremely entertaining. Whenever we did example lessons for each other Ian would often incorporate his dark humor and overall attitude of "why the hell are we doing this right now" into his lessons through his example sentences and games. Alright class let's go over the future tense again, "Ian will need to have a drink after class today." I think his own status update from his last day of class captures the essence of Ian's sarcasm and humor well "As time passes I realize more and more how teaching little Mexican kids english is just like keeping drunk adults entertained at the bar." 

             Rob and Kate are an Australian couple that are nearing the end of their year long honeymoon together. They traveled South America and then worked their way up to Mexico where they stopped to teach in Chiapa for 6 months. They are both eventually going to return to Australia to be primary school teachers and they needed a break from traveling as well as to get some more experience teaching under their belt before returning home. Rob and Kate are the type of people that could probably succeed at whatever they pursued. They have this contagious energy and passion that shows in everything they do, especially in their teaching style. They are going to change some lives in the classroom back in Australia and make some fantastic parents. My favorite memory with these two was probably a combination of experiences from the previous blog. The moment where Kate protected the kids and then gave me one of them during the Parachico parade, salsa dancing in the street until 3am and watching Rob bust moves with the drunk Parachicos and the local Chiapenecas, and having the pleasure of meeting Kate's parents and sharing a dinner together near the central park on the last day of the Fiesta. Her parents seem to have traveled to nearly every continent and their honeymoon consisted of a trans siberian railway trip through Soviet Russia followed by a stint in the UK and ending with a several month caravan trip through Europe, the Middle East, and ending in India. And although they are in their 60's they're still exploring and traveling - I think I know where Kate and Rob got their idea for a honeymoon of traveling from. Couples who travel together and share life experiences together, stay together (or at least that's my theory). 
           

James is a former pharmacist from Ireland who had also been on a Latin American travel tour before winding up at Dunham to be a teacher. I didn't get to know James that well since he was the one teacher I didn't observe during my TEFL course but we did spend a large amount of Parachico day together. My favorite memory with James probably had to be the hour break we took together as San Sebastian entered the church and he suggested we go and get tacos. As to date it's been the best food I've had here in Mexico - I don't even remember the name of what we ordered but it included chorizo. Over our delicious meals I asked James to fill me in on the Troubles in Northern Ireland (aka the Protestant/Catholic conflict). We compared and contrasted other ethnic conflicts with the Troubles including civil rights for African Americans in the States along with the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. It was another instance of my eyes being opened a little bit more to the world around me. The events that took place and to some degree continue to take place in Northern Ireland are things we never ever talk about in school or hear about on the news. I guess the idea of Christians gunning each other down in the streets, bombing shopping centers, and persecuting each other doesn't make for good press in a "Christian" nation like the States - so that's why we focus on all those Muslim barbarians! 
          Paul is a native of Massachusetts who came to Mexico to gain more experience as a teacher, simultaneously receive his TEFL as he taught, and improve his Spanish before taking off to travel. Paul tends to be soft spoken and more of the quiet observer type but when he does speak up he always has something positive share. He actually taught our TEFL course a couple of days and shared some insider tips with us on how to prepare resume's for teaching, search for English teaching jobs in Mexico, and also introduced us to the concept of online English tutoring. The man is selfless and was always there to help any of us TEFL students when we had questions. My favorite memory with Paul was attending the going away party for the teachers with him at Krakow bakery. We had wine and guacamole and I had the opportunity to meet the friends the teachers had made over the course of their six month stay. We took a break from the gathering to go buy some hamburgers from a stand with two of Paul's Mexican friends. When it came time to pay they insisted that they pay for us. When we returned we were offered Jamaica (a type of fruit punch made from flowers) also on the house. It was an awesome night of practicing Spanish, free food and drink, and it all happened because Paul extended me an invite on our walk home from class. 
          Joanna is the director of Dunham Institute. She had just graduated college with a biology degree on the the east coast when she decided to take the leap of faith and get her TEFL certification in South America. Some twenty five years later and Joanna hasn't lived in the States since. She has spent these years living and working around South America and eventually making her way to Mexico. She was teaching in Tuxtla when she realized she was tired of the bureaucracy, of all the paperwork, all the oversight when she felt confident enough to start exploring the option of starting her own school. Chiapa de Corzo was only fifteen minutes away and was an untapped population for English learning. With a small loan she bought the property for the school and began her first semester of teaching as the sole instructor and four students. Over the last fifteen years the program has grown to where there are now four other teachers and some 60 students. Joanna lives above the school with her two children that were born here in Mexico. When asked if she would ever return to the States she told me "God no" - and is certain she will call Chiapa de Corzo or at least Mexico home for the rest of her life. My favorite memory with Joanna was probably chunta night when she, her son, and daughter joined the rest of us gringos and our families in the parade. At one point a random group of chuntas approached us and attempted to pour a bottle of tequila into Joanna's 14 year old son's mouth (in their defense he looks much older than 14). Joanna hastily took the bottle from her son, took a pull, and handed it back to the other chuntas. Oh the things parents do for their kids!
          So now that you know the cast of characters that accompanied me for the first six weeks of my stay here it's time to tell you that I am not currently a teacher. It was a difficult decision but ultimately I came to the conclusion that I wanted something different from my Mexico experience. Chiapa de Corzo is great, and that's why I'm still here for the time being, but come March it's common for the temperature to reach 100 degrees with a humidity of 75%. Basically, I've been told, given my Wisconsin winter roots, that I will die here. Talking to Ferry, my dutch friend, who taught here last Spring he told me it becomes so hot that you literally cannot leave your house between the hours of 11 to 4. Already, it feels like a Wisconsin summer here with the daily temperature being in the high 80s with 55% humidity, I don't know that I can take much more. On top of the actual environment there were also some concerns with my work environment. Joanna is a pleasant enough person outside of the school but at the end of the day I didn't feel like I could trust her as a boss. There were issues with expenses and the conditions of my work exchange that didn't seem to add up and I was directly lied to on at least one occasion. If someone breaks my trust and can't be honest with me when I ask questions about the nature of my work or the costs associated with it, well you lost me. When I work somewhere, it's not just about the clientele or the service provided, it's about who I'm working for and who I'm representing as well. Then there's the fact that teaching is not for the faint of heart. I'm a good teacher. I felt like I delivered some excellent classes and made deep connections with my students but teaching English just isn't something I'm passionate about. If I'm dedicating hours a day to developing lesson plans and delivering classes it's going to need to be about something I feel is truly important, something like green architecture, permaculture, or sustainable living. So maybe I could do the classroom life but it would need to be under very specific circumstances. When it comes to teaching I like the organic teaching moments more, those spontaneous conversations that I share with youngsters while we're hiking or when we're sitting around a fire cooking dinner. So can I teach? Could I be a teacher? Yes. But is it what I want for the future? No. Having said that, I have gained an enormous amount of respect for all the teachers out there. Those that taught me years ago and those who continue to teach the youth of today and tomorrow. Your job is not easy, hell I would argue it's one of the hardest jobs out there, right up there with parenting. The hours of lesson planning, the actual instruction, dealing with bullying and behavior issues, adapting your lesson to when students simply don't get it, changing a lesson when only half the class shows up, developing homework or exams, grading coursework and papers... and on top of that all the extracurricular activities that they are often involved with from coaching basketball to chess club to school dances. Man, having merely tested the waters for four weeks I feel the need to seek out my former teachers and thank them in person because I have that much more respect for them now. 

        So my initial plan of teaching at Dunham would have meant that I would be staying here until the beginning of June (a five month commitment, one more reason why I chose not to teach) but now that that plan is off the table I'm changing things up. I'll leave the grand scheme to future blogs but as of now I've decided to stay in Chiapa de Corzo with my wonderful host family until mid March before moving onto the next adventure. So you're not teaching and you're still in the same place, what exactly are you doing Steven? Well let me tell you! 
       First of all I remain a teacher; or at least that's what I tell people that I meet. Two of my sister's friends that I met last month at the parade started taking English lessons from me. I'm charging a rate of $2.50 an hour so you know I'm doing this for the money! No, actually it's just something to keep me busy, put my TEFL into practice, and maybe pay for my weekly snacks. It's interesting because during my TEFL course we taught students who already knew how to speak English (they were all at the end of at least their first semester since classes started back in September) but with my two students they know almost no English so I'm starting at the very beginning which is a whole new challenge that we didn't really cover in my course. I'm developing my own curriculum, selecting the vocabulary I feel is important, and hopefully giving them an even better experience than they would experience if they attended a private English school like Dunham. Ironically both of these girls have taken years of English courses in public school but as I've been told by everyone that I've met in Mexico these classes are a complete joke. The public Mexican English teachers have no incentive to teach the language and so most of the classes are spent speaking Spanish and the teachers do nothing; some don't even speak much English! 
             I also have a new identity as a basketball player. Last week I went to the deportiva for the first time (an outdoor sports complex with basketball courts, arena soccer courts, soccer fields, a track, and playground equipment that is open to the public). Paul and I met a group of guys that play basketball twice weekly in the evenings on Tuesdays and Thursdays and they invited us to play with them. Paul has to teach classes but since I'm now a freelance teacher I get to choose my own schedule so basketball it is! When it comes to Mexican basketball this actually isn't my first experience. Back in Wisconsin I began playing in a Mexican basketball league last February and again this past November with a group of guys, and the experience here is strikingly similar. Same age group more or less, same old slippery type of gymnasium, same basketball with zero grip, same gringo with a one foot height advantage, same inability to fully comprehend what my teammates are yelling at me, same assumption that I can dunk, same continual attempts for me to alley-oop the basketball, same universal language of laughs and smiles, same community, same friendship. In addition to playing with the men on Tuesdays and Thursdays I returned to the deportiva last Wednesday for some additional practice and encountered a youth basketball training program. I talked with the coach and he asked me if I wanted to participate alongside the youth who ranged in age from fifteen to nineteen, I figured I'd give it a shot. And that's how I became a member of this basketball "team." We run laps, climb up the bleachers, do ball handling drills, one on one's (I feel bad for the kids during these drills), and basically get whipped into shape for an hour and a half straight. I've been enjoying the practices because it's the first time I've really been a part of a team and practiced since lacrosse back in high school and it's the first time I've done basketball drills in ten years since 8th grade when I was fourteen years old (god that makes me feel old)! When I show up to practice the kids that haven't met me have this great expression of surprise and confusion on their faces; "is this gringo playing basketball with us, there's no way he's in the age group, my god is he two meters tall, why would he want to practice with us kids, my god he's tall but he still can't shoot" (this is just what I assume goes through their minds). So it's basketball five days a week, maybe I'll actually improve over the next month! 
         In addition to playing basketball I've also started taking salsa dance lessons at the local traditional school. As I mentioned in a previous post I love dancing and I've always wanted to take more lessons so when I ventured over to the school two weeks ago and found out salsa was one of the options I was ecstatic. In addition to salsa classes the school also offers courses in painting, wood working, sewing, marimba, guitar, traditional dance, and even hip hop dance. The coolest thing about the traditional school is that all of these courses are completely free. Like I mentioned when I wrote about Don Antonio, the parachico mask carver, the Mexican government is making efforts to preserve and promote traditional skills among the population. There are apparently hundreds of schools just like this one around the country offering free instruction in a number of skills. How cool is that? So for myself and a few of the other teachers to receive an hour long private lesson we have to pay absolutely nothing whereas in the States most private lessons will run you around $50 dollars an hour. Just another aspect of Mexican society I wish could be found in the States. So while I'm here in Mexico I figure this is the place to learn to dance, in a society where even children in the womb are salsaing to the beat of their mother's hearts (okay maybe that's a stretch but every man, woman, and child I've met here can more or less tear up the dance floor when it comes to latin music). 
      Not being in the classroom five days a week has also given me the liberty to travel a bit more. About two weeks ago my family and Brian's rented a 15 passenger van with a driver and drove some 200 km southwest to the town of Puerta Arista on the Pacific coast to celebrate my sister's and mother's birthdays (within four days of each other). We arrived at a mostly deserted beach town that clearly catered to the tourist crowd. We drove straight to the beach and then hooked left on a road that paralleled the ocean. We drove for some fifteen minutes further passing by dozens and dozens of empty restaurants, hotels, and bars whos employees ran out onto the road attempting to flag us down and convince us to stop at their place of business. Eventually we pulled up to a little restaurant, no different than most of the others, other than that it had a water slide! There was a little kitchen with a full array of dishes, an eating area with a tropical vibe thatched roof, a swimming pool, a hammock to lounge in, and of course a beautiful view of the beach and the ocean (which stood only 100 meters away from our table). The beach, just like the restaurants, was completely empty. There were times when it was just my family and I in the water. There was even a point later in the afternoon where I was literally the only person in the ocean for as far as the eye could see. We built sand castles, played cards,

tested out the water slide, and body surfed in the ocean for the entire day. The waves were perfect and I only wished there was somewhere nearby to rent a surfboard. It's been over three years since I've been surfing and I miss it every time I find myself in the ocean. Even without the surfboard I still rode my waves and got my fix. Talking to my host brother, I find out that this place will resemble Cancun in a matter of weeks. Thousands of tourists will descend on Puerta Arista like a plague. The only reason they're not here right now is because it's "out of season" although the 90 degree weather and blistering sun make it hard to argue that there is not better time to be at the beach. I had a similar experience only four months earlier when I traveled to Stone Harbor New Jersey to spend a day at the beach during a day off with my crew of the Canoemobile. It was October and even though it was in the 80s and it was the perfect day to be at the beach we were some of the only people, not just at the beach but in the entire town. Almost every business was "closed for the season" and once again I found myself at times being the only person in the water; this time though it was the Atlantic. 
       

 We finished the day at Puerta Arista taking in the beautiful sunset together as one big family on the beach. Once again we were all but alone. As we sat there taking in the colors of the sky I couldn't help but feel like I had found paradise in that moment. Oh the love I have for the "off season," that lovely phrase which keeps the droves away, and gives me and my companions the opportunity to enjoy Eden all by ourselves. Given the heat index of the coming months I know I'll be headed back to the beach soon; hopefully with a surfboard but without the tourists. 

       San Cristobal de las Casas is ranked as one of the top places to visit in Mexico among nearly every travel site on the web. Tucked away in the mountains, a mere 50 km from Chiapa de Corzo, lies this curious little city that stands in direct contrast to the concrete franchise jungle of Tuxtla and also the quiet traditional town of Chiapa. San Cristobal is something completely unique. Remember the story of the Spanish explorers who first came to this region of Mexico that I told you about in my first blog? They originally settled on the banks of the Rio Grijalva thus establishing Chiapa de Corzo as the Spanish capital for this region; however, after only a few years they found the heat to be unbearable and thus picked up and headed to the cooler climate of the mountains to create a new capital; San Cristobal de las Casas. It is for this reason that walking the streets of San Cristobal readily reminds one of walking the streets of a small town in Europe (I haven't been to Europe but from what I see in the movies and TV it sure looks like it). There's also the fact that the town has an enormous population of foreigners; many of whom are European. While I can walk the streets of Chiapa de Corzo and be recognized as the one of maybe five foreigners who live in this entire town of 50,000 people, in San Cristobal I'm just another white dude with long hair. Depending on what street you're on or what establishment you frequent you may find yourself surrounded by more hippies, traveling kids, and wealthy tourists than locals. The economy of San Cristobal caters to this; it is a year round tourism hub for foreigners and Mexicans alike. Nearly every other establishment in the city has some sort of connection to tourism; hotels, hostels, bike rentals, rappelling, canyon tours, museums, gift shops, European cafes, clubs, bars etc. The town is beautiful and full of culture, I'll give it that. There's live music in nearly every bar, dancing can be found on most nights, there's an array of restaurants that serve foreign food, there are beautiful colorful buildings that have been around for hundreds of years, and there are wonderful pedestrian streets that you can stroll upon as you sip your Cabernet Sauvignon from Spain. Sounds like Eden eh? Even with all the perks I'd still rather be a local in my small town than just another tourist in a tourist town. That reason is precisely why I decided not to move to San Cristobal after getting my TEFL; but I can still visit when I feel the need to have some night life and blend into the crowd a bit more.  

       I ventured to San Cristobal for the first time some three weeks ago to celebrate the completion of my TEFL course with the seven other TEFL students. It was a bittersweet ending to our month spent together, although I still had the chance to see a few of them back in Chiapa and one or two are still hanging around town like me. What I want to dedicate this paragraph to though is my experience couchsurfing there last weekend. To those who are new to the concept of websites like Couchsurfing, WWOOFing, HelpX, WorkAway, WarmShowers, etc. I encourage you to immediately check them out, especially if you are a 20 something year old traveler who wants to walk away with a community of friends and some unique experiences that you probably couldn't have, even if you wanted to pay for them. These websites all more or less function on the idea of free room and board in exchange for some sort of service. Using WWOOFing, HelpX, or WorkAway you could find a job as an organic farmer, a sailor on a catamaran in the Caribbean Sea, or an English Teacher in Mexico (but seriously there are thousands of unique and interesting jobs to be found around the entire world through these sites) where you work a few hours a day in exchange for the basic necessities of life. Couchsurfing and WarmShowers seem too good to be true, the service that is used in exchange for housing and sometimes food as well depending on the host, is simply your presence. The time's I've used these sites people take you in because they want to hear your story, share their city with someone, have been helped before by other hosts, or they simply want to have friends from around their country or the world. 
       

My host for my couchsurfing experience in San Cristobal was Marco, a twenty five year old tour guide who has lived in the city for the last six years. Marco lives with his friend Ale, also a tour guide, in an apartment only two blocks from the main square of town. Ale's parents, Antonio and Theresa, along with her brother, Ricky, from Jalisco were also visiting San Cristobal that weekend so all six of us shacked up in the two bedrooms of their small apartment. Like every other hosting experience I've had I was welcomed with open arms, smiles, and free food. And even though I didn't always know what we were talking about, since Spanish was the only language spoken, I was firmly included in their community and family for the duration of my four day stay. My first night Marco, Ale, Ricky, their friend Javier, and I hung out in their apartment talking and drinking some whiskey until about 11pm. I was thinking we were going to be heading to bed soon when all of a sudden all of my companions started taking showers and getting dressed up; I knew where this was going. When in Rome. So we hit the streets a little before midnight and thus began a five hour tour of the bars and dance spots of San Cristobal. We salsa danced with cerveza, we socialized with Argentinians, we took shots of Mezcal and had a dance party with folks from Mexico City, we feasted on cheap hot dogs and Sabritas at Oxxo, and we fell asleep with the sunrise. 
         The next day we hopped into Javier's pick up truck and took a ride out to the town of Chamula 10km outside of San Cristobal. I got to ride in the bed of the truck and take in the beautiful panoramic mountain views, an experience I haven't had since the Dominican but that I missed dearly. Chamula is famous for being a village which is nearly entirely indigenous and where the indigenous language Tzotzil is spoken more than Spanish. The main draw to Chamula is the church of San Juan. This is no ordinary Catholic church, in fact it hardly resembles anything "catholic" at all. If you were teleported into this church, not knowing where you were or the context surrounding it, you would probably think you had stumbled into some sort of satanist gathering. On the outside all appears normal but stepping through the doors you are met by dozens of creepy ceramic statues of saints in boxes mounted on the walls and hundreds of lit candles arranged in patterns on the floor with indigenous folks prostrating themselves reciting Tzotzil prayers. What's taking place is a strange blend of the Catholic faith

and pre Spaniard Mayan traditions. I'm told that it's common to see chickens offered to saints as sacrifices along with Coca-cola (I have no idea where the soda comes into play and my Spanish vocabulary wasn't extensive enough to get to the bottom of this). Really the whole

church seems to be more of a vodoo-ish place to offer sacrifices to saints in hopes that they will intervene in your life and remedy your affliction or problem than a place of worship (but I suppose the idea of sacrifice in exchange for services isn't that different than what takes place in the States; prostrating yourself and promising to give up your drinking habits if it means some saint will cure your ailing mother in the hospital etc. It's more of just how that "asking" is being done that's different; saying the rosary versus cutting the throat of a chicken, downing a liter of Coke, and lighting a hundred candles - However, I'm told both have the same net effect in solving one's issues). 
        Speaking of rituals and religion that brings me to the reason why I visited San Cristobal and was staying with Marco and friends in the first place; el Papa. That's right, in the middle of the mountains of the poorest state in Mexico, Pope Francis was making a day trip to visit and this gringo was set on seeing him in person. There are few people, if any, that I would alter my daily schedule for just to get a glimpse of (I wear a shirt that says NO KINGS for this exact reason. To express that I don't care whether you're a celebrity or a politician, my waiter or a bum on the street, you are more or less going to receive the same treatment from me). Having said all that, the Pope is probably the one exception to my mantra. He's a man I will change my day for. I left the apartment at 10am that morning in order to stake out a spot to see the Vicar of Christ (from this point on I'm going to use every other name for the Pope that I can find, purely for purposes of entertainment and the fact that I will get very tired of writing "Pope."). Even though I set off solo I ended up running into Antonio, Theresa, Javier, Ricky, and Ale in the street and we decided to set off together to find the prime real estate for our Holy Father fix. Thousands of people lined the streets decked out in Papal gear; hats, shirts, flags, posters, giant cardboard cut outs of doves, it was like a tailgate except we were waiting for the Bishop of Rome instead of the Green Bay Packers (that and alcohol was forbidden from being sold this day; should tell that to the folks pouring tequila in the streets to celebrate San Sebastian back in Chiapa, guess we all have our different interpretations of how God would want us to celebrate).

        Anyway, we eventually claimed our spot and the waiting game began. It was during this time that I began to really question why I was making such an effort to see this man and why so many others were doing the same. I began thinking; if Obama or Beyonce came to Green Bay I would never wait for five hours just to see them drive by and I think most people worldwide would side with me on that one as well. Yet here, in rural Mexico thousands of people had turned out from all across the country, Guatemala, (and when you consider all the international tourists) and the world to see this man. Really, the Pope could probably go to any country in the world and draw a similar response, in fact he has. Muslim majority Turkey and Egypt, communist Cuba, Buddhist Sri Lanka, Jewish Israel, highly agnostic/atheistic South Korea and France, the evangelical/protestant dominated States and yet the crowds were there. I tried to think of a single other person that could do the same in today's world. There were zero other religious or spiritual leaders with the same universal appeal (the Dalai Lama was the closest I could come up with, and yet if he were to visit San Cristobal the fervor and attention simply wouldn't have been there). There are no political figures that are liked and respected across the world, hell there are very few that are even liked in their own countries. There are no entertainers that draw the same crowds, send Justin Bieber to the Philippines and see what happens. There are no scientists or inventors (literally can't even think of anyone to even use as an example, guess that speaks to how important they are considered in our society) that could fill a stadium and need to have the military called in for protection. Nor are there any artists or authors that attract this much devotion. There exists no one like the Governor of the World (maybe this one's a stretch) who has the ability to command respect and influence the opinion and policy of dictators and president's alike. Now add the fact that Pope Francis is the most radical (actually I would argue the most true Christian) Successor of St. Peter to ever call the Vatican his home and you know why I wanted to see this man. There are NO KINGS, and I think Pope Francis would second me on that, but this is a man worth seeing.

         So five hours later and the moment was nearing. I laid down in the park, had lunch, took a walk, listened to mariachi, joined in some Catholic chants, and ran to the street nearly a half dozen times with the crowd as someone would scream in Spanish "he's coming," only to realize they were mistaken, before the Shepherd of the Universal Church finally made his appearance. By the time he showed up I had grown tired of the boy who cried wolf and resolved to only get up when the actual motorcade began to go by (Matthew 24:42 Watch therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come. Or the Pope). Finally the motorcycles began going by and I rushed to join the crowd along the street. Once again the foot advantage came into play and while those around me couldn't see a thing behind the lines of Holy Father fanatics I had a clear view of the avenue. The white pick up truck with bullet proof glass, aka the Popemobile, came cruising by and there he was; el Papa! Five hours of waiting for a five second glimpse but I can say I saw the Pope and cross it off the bucketlist. Then there was the group of women who turned there cameras on me after having just taken photos of the Pope because they said I looked like Brad Pitt. I was flattered, one because they compared me to Brad Pitt and two because after the Pope I was the person they were most happy to see that day. Now that's a guy I don't mind playing second fiddle to. 

My Brad Pitt Fans from Tabasco Mexico